


the great shroud of the sea rolled on

by burningdarkfire



Series: yet is there hope (9 Worlds) [2]
Category: NieR: Automata (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Star Trek Fusion, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-04-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 12:15:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14164635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burningdarkfire/pseuds/burningdarkfire
Summary: 9 different worlds in which the 2 of them meet.second - a star trek AU, in which 2B is a Vulcan, 9S is a human, and they meet on the USS YoRHa.





	the great shroud of the sea rolled on

2B looked at the Captain, already confused by the file she was reading.  “It seems unusual for us to have a meeting specifically to discuss a new incoming junior science officer.”

The Captain leaned forward slightly, motioning for 2B to keep reading.  “Junior, but only officially.  He won’t be working with the team most of the time.  He’s a prodigy.  The best Starfleet has created in decades.  I want to put you, 2B, in charge of looking after him and making sure he settles in.”

2B consulted her PADD further.  “He is still a student.”

The Captain waved her hand.  “The best Starfleet will have created in a decade.  Jumping straight to junior science officer aboard the USS YoRHa the moment he graduates in two months.  The point remains.”

“We are a warship, not a science vessel.  I fail to see the logic behind assigning a freshly graduated supposed science prodigy to one of the most dangerous ships in the fleet.” 

The vast majority of the crew on the ship were already seasoned from years at space, having served numerous missions before being accepted to their stations here.  They needed crewmates who were proven to stay steady under stressful situations, and, as 6O would put it chirpily, who “could kick nearly anyone’s ass in the universe if it came to it.”  2B herself was still one of the youngest, handpicked years ago after the Captain had witnessed her fight in a pirating attempt, and she easily had two dozen years on this newcomer.

The Captain tapped a finger firmly on the table, as if to stop any further comments from her first officer.  “Knowledge wins wars, 2B.  There’s a plan.  There’s always a plan.”

An hour later, 2B leaves, head spinning.  The Captain calls out to her.  “You have your orders.  This could mean the end of the war we have been waging our entire lives.  See to it.”

* * *

 

“Hi!  Nice to meet you!  I’m 9S, your new junior science officer!  The Captain said you’d been assigned to see me around and I am _so_ honoured –”

As her new charge rambled on, all but bouncing around her, 2B stiffened.  This felt like a mistake.  He was so bubbly, so young.  A child, not a soldier.

“I’ve never been on a _real_ warship before –”

2B had reviewed his files intently after the Captain had told her the plan.  So little space experience, even for a cadet.  But the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, or the one.  The Captain had entrusted her to see this through. 

Generally ignoring 9S’s needless chatter, 2B pointed out features of the ship as they passed.  The moment she presented him with anything new, 9S pelted her with a variety of questions, and although she was exhausted by the end of the tour, she had to admit a small sense of admiration at his doggedness in pursing any type of knowledge.  Undoubtedly the quality for which he had picked to this assignment.  It was a shame it came with so much other noise.

“Take a few days to acclimate yourself to this ship.  Our first expedition will be in five days.”

9S immediately perked up more, if that was even possible.  “I’ve already reviewed the prep several times!  I can’t wait to see more of the actual lab tomorrow.  Can we go after breakfast?  Are we going to eat together?  Oh, sorry, is that rude to ask?  I know you’re the first officer and all –”

“0700 in the dining hall if you wish.  Goodnight, officer.”

She would do this right.  Just like any other mission.

* * *

 

6O took another swig of alcohol, downed it, and sighed into her cup.  “Okay, that’s enough about my mediocre love life.  What about you?  How’s that new junior science officer doing in his first few weeks?”

“Fine.”  2B kept her eyes sharp around the pub for anyone that might want to make trouble.

“Hey, isn’t it kind of weird in the first place that you’re doing some kind of science work with this guy?  You’re a kickass first officer on a warship and all that!  I know he’s got some kind of special thing going on,” she waved her hand wildly, “but shouldn’t you be, oh I dunno, leading more troops or something?”

“Orders are orders,” 2B said stiffly.  “I will still be running other missions for the Captain.  Now, tell me more about this girl who turned you down.”

* * *

 

“Say, Commander, how come you’re always wearing those gloves?  Isn’t it a pain to always have to clean them?   I don’t think I’ve ever seen your real hands.”

2B looked down at the black gloves she always wore with the standard uniform.  Luckily, the bodies she had helped dragged back to the ship today were not oozing any mysterious substance of any sort.  Their past three trips had not always been so lucky.  “Vulcan hands can be very sensitive.”

9S got a familiar gleam in his eye, like he wanted to grab her hands and study them right away.  “Oh, man!  Tell me about it!  I’ve always wondered what it was like – thought that maybe that might make doing science _better_ , if I could tell more things by touch – not to mention _read minds_!  Just hack into someone’s headspace, figure out why they do all the things they do.  Vulcans must make great science officers.”  9S paused for a breath.  “But I guess maybe it’s hard to feel all the things you kill.  Not to mention the work we’re doing.  Although I’m not really sure how much you actually feel.  Oh, not in a bad way, just, no emotions and all that.”

“Officer,” 2B said chidingly, before he spiralled deeper.  Sometimes he was frighteningly on point.  There were very few Vulcans serving on Federation warships, and fewer still in combat-centric roles.

“Right, sorry.  Too personal.  Mission-related conversation only.  I’ll tend to all this fresh meat now.  Send you a report in a few hours!  I bet I can beat the morning debrief.” 

“Get some rest.  You’ll perform best when you’re not tired.” 

He laughed and gave her a little wave as she turned to leave.  “Careful, or I might think you’re worrying about me!  It’ll almost be like we’re friends.”

2B frowned.  “We’re here to wage war, not make friends, officer.  It is not wise to form emotional bonds.”

“Yeah, yeah.  But hey, since we’re almost, just not _really_ , friend, you should just call me 9S instead of officer!  I bet it raises moral.”  He grinned at her.

2B had quickly ago learned that sometimes the best way forward with her new partner was through compromise.

“I’ll see you at the morning debrief … Officer 9S.”

* * *

 

The Captain transferred a file to her with a swoop of her finger.  “Rogue spy.  Used to meet her every four months on IS8-4.  I’m sure you’re familiar.  Now she says her brother is supposedly dying, wants to go take of him.”

“You want me to take care of her.”  2B looked at the spy’s pictures.  She habitually wore a strange, round mask.  Easy to track down.

“Check out the brother too, just to be sure.  See if there are any other loose ends.”  The Captain pulled up another file.  “Here’s another.  Ensign got drunk, blabbed his mouth at a pleasure house last night.  Find out who knows what and take care of it.  The usual.  I’m sorry to burden you when you just came out of med bay, but consider these two missions top priority.”

“Understood.”

“The war is hard on us all,” the Captain said.  “Now, tell me – how is 9S’s research coming along?”

* * *

 

“Combat is n-not my forte,” 9S panted, clutching his bleeding side as he leaned against 2B for support.  “T-thank you.  You saved me.”

“It’s my job,” 2B said.  As 9S’s eyelashes started to flutter closed, she gently patted his arm.  “Hey, stay with me.  You have a job too.  An important one.”

9S smiled at her weakly.  “Thank you.  I’ll do my best, Commander.”

“2B.”  Keep him engaged, awake.  “You can call me 2B.  There’s no need to be so formal.  It provides efficiency on the battlefield.  For next time.”  There will be a next time.  The ship should be able to pick them up any moment now.

9S gave her a chuckle before groaning in pain.  “You’re the one killing me right now with the jokes, Commander.  Efficiency plan noted.  For next time.”

* * *

 

9S showed up to breakfast in the dining hall with haggard eyes and multiple scratches on his arms, yawning and immediately reaching for coffee.  “Hey,” he said jokingly, pointing to the cast on 2B’s arm, “we practically match.”

“”You should take better care not to engage so closely with the research,” 2B said.  Her arm throbbed.

“I prefer a hands-on approach,” 9S replied and winked.  “Don’t worry.  Isn’t that what you guys hired me for?”

He laughed, bright and chiming, and 2B felt a little nauseous.

* * *

 

“2B! Are you okay?”  9S rushed towards her as she exited the medic bay.

“Not now,” she responded curtly.  She had finally managed to persuade 7H to let her leave and had not been expecting _more_ nagging.  9S’s laboratory was near the medic bay, where the screaming could be disguised, but she had assumed he would be busy working at this time.  “I have work I need to do.”  Her arm hurt, and she just wanted to be left alone.

He hovered regardless, as he tended to do.  “I heard what happened today.  Lieutenant Jean-Paul called sick the day his patrol gets ambushed by the enemy?  He’s a coward and a fool for underestimating you, 2B.”

“Don’t spread rumours,” 2B snapped, limping towards her quarters and hopefully some peace.  “Stay focused on your mission.  We need your data to prevent these things from happening again.”  Her hands hurt and she could barely focus to let herself into her rooms. 

She had executed half of the squad before they had had a chance to react, but the other half put up a hell of a fight.  The Captain had had her eye on this treacherous group for months.  An enemy attack was a solid cover.  Anyone else they had spoken to on the ship with less than perfect loyalty got the message, and everyone else felt more righteous and empowered than ever to fight.

“Here.”  Before 2B could protest, 9S took her around the shoulders and guided her into her quarters, steering her towards the bed.  “Med bay didn’t do a very good job, did they?  Where’s your first aid kit?  I can patch you up some more.”

“They – you – have more important things to tend to.”  2B closed her eyes, trying desperately to will the officer out of her rooms so she could just sit in silence, knowing nonetheless that it was a fruitless endeavour.

“Yeah, yeah.”  9S did not show any signs of stopping as he rummaged around.  “Ah!  Here.  I could have been a doctor, you know.  I was good enough.  Just wanted to help in a different way.”

No Hippocratic Oath for a junior science officer.  2B was too tired to protest when he rolled up her sleeve and started working on a cut on her arm.  His touch had become familiar at some point in the past few months.  9S liked to crowd her when showing her something, always pressing his arm against hers, with no sense of personal space. 

Dozing, near sleep, she realized, surprisingly, that he could be quiet when focused, brow furrowed.  In fact, he looked almost – angry.

* * *

 

“Niiiiiiiiines,” 2B tried out, slurring the name as her tongue felt like it was trying to escape her mouth.  One glove had come off, somehow, at some point, and she was tapping vaguely at 9S’s arm.  He had been giggling for at _least_ 20 hours straight.  Maybe more.  Maybe he’d stopped to poke her cheeks a few times.  2B wasn’t sure.  She squinted as she took another bite of the foreign plant.  Maybe he had turned purple and that’s why she couldn’t seem to get a firm grasp on him.  “Are there nine of you?”

* * *

 

“My sister told me,” 6O said somewhat accusingly, pointing her fork straight at 2B, “that you and your junior science officer have been spending a lot of time in your quarters.”

“I never took 21O as the type to gossip.”

 6O shrieked, drawing the attention of just about half of the mess hall.  “ _Are_ you sleeping with him?”

“What?”  2B felt her ears heat up slightly.  She took a deep breath.  “No!  He provides me with minor medical aid after our expeditions.  It is more efficient than troubling med bay or administrating treatments by myself.”

“Let me guess – you can’t admit it out loud that you’ve had come to treasure the tender way his fingers could move across your body, asking you if you’re hurt here, or here, or could you feel this?”  6O put a trill in her voice, mimicking a lover’s hand on her arm.  “Playing doctor!”

“Emotions were forbidden,” 2B reminded her.  Her heart ached, strangely.  “It would be illogical to think of my partner that way.  We are only here to win the war.”

“Suuuuuuure.”  6O huffed at her.  “I can’t believe you didn’t tell me first!”

“It’s all very clinical,” 2B insisted, taking another bite of her mashed potatoes.

* * *

 

When 9S sent her a mission report at 0349 with what could either be a confusing error or astounding abnormality, rather than wait for their morning meeting at breakfast, she found herself knocking at his door at 0356.

“Humans need sleep,” she said, chidingly, when he opened the door and beamed in surprise at her.  Without the need for regulation uniform in his room, he was wearing a simple black tank and shorts.  “You’re making mistakes.”

“Come in!”  He stepped aside, and 2B walked forward into the space nearly without thinking.  “I’m so glad you’re here.  I actually wanted to talk to you about something not on the report …”

* * *

 

2B was struck, for a moment, by the gleam of light on 9S’s face as they foraged around this planet, its three suns illuminating his long eyelashes and soft lips.  He turned to her, in the middle of some chatter about the planet’s ecosystem as they scouted for a small Klingon base, out of the way, easily overrun by just 2B and an enthusiastic scientist, perfect for their research.

Then she was struck from behind, her attention distracted, diverted, and she fell, desperately trying to scream at 9S to run, not hearing his howl of rage as she slipped into darkness.

When 2B woke up to a bloody 9S, she learned that a junior science officer could get also very enthusiastic about combat when needed.

* * *

 

2B allowed herself too many little slips in those days.  She meditated more frequently than usual, seeking calm in ancient Vulcan rituals.

Every time she left the ship to go planetside without 9S, a new missive from the Captain in hand, he would greet her when she came back with a smile and a laugh.  He had, at a certain point, stopped asking questions about her.  Instead, he steadily patched up her inexplicable scrapes and bruises while chattering about what had happened on the ship while she was gone.

* * *

 

Between his insistence on, as he started jokingly calling it, her “maintenance,” and her insistence on him actually getting some sleep so his reports weren’t full of errors, 2B found herself spending more and more off-hours together with 9S.  One of them (usually 9S) would fall asleep on the bed, the other doing some kind of work at the desk.  A blanket appeared, more and more frequently, on the back of 9S’s chair to accommodate 2B in his lower room temperatures.

9S woke sometimes, screaming from a nightmare.  2B held him and shushed him and reminded him that all of their work was for a greater good.  They needed data on the enemy, data that they couldn’t get only through the heat of combat and the whispers of spies.  Sometimes the price of knowledge was ugly, but science has always needed experiments and scientists willing to do them. 

* * *

 

2B allowed, at last, 9S to slip off one of her gloves, and she reached up slowly, gently, to cradle his face.  Her eyes watered and her chest hurt.  This was something worth fighting for.  This was _feeling_.

* * *

 

Now, the judge looks down at her.  The courtroom feels silent, nearly empty despite the hundreds of cameras.  No one who matters to her is here.  She is thankful for that. 

“Do you understand the severity of your crimes, 2B?  You have worked for years as a single-handed jury and executioner for your Captain.  With a junior science officer, you have experimented on, tortured, and killed hundreds of civilians and soldiers.  You have exhibited no respect for the sanctity of life as you carried out your assassinations and your vivisections.  We cannot allow this to happen, and certainly not under the banner of the Federation.  These are war crimes.  You will never see the stars again as long as you live.”

2B closes her eyes.  She doesn’t know if the Captain is alive or dead.  She has given a lot of her life for the Captain, her mentor.  Orphaned young, alone and directionless, unfeeling.  Until she had joined the warship with the conviction that the Captain knew and would always do what was right, logically, unwaveringly.  The war must end.

9S is, she hopes, free.  She had hurriedly sent him on a solo mission when the Federation ships approached.  She feels, in this moment, the ghost of his fingers across her collarbone, her back, her ears.  A person worth protecting; an emotion worth feeling.  Something bigger beyond her own life.

Even if the moment she is forgiven never comes to pass.  She will continue to fight.

2B looks up, unfazed by the court.  This is a peace worth killing for.

**Author's Note:**

> Something I kept coming back to while playing the game was that you (the player) are encouraged to feel a lot of empathy for the machines, but the characters you play as never quite reach the same realizations. As I played through Routes A-B, I had a mounting sense of horror at how easily and casually the characters killed without ever questioning it. So I wanted to explore the idea of 2B and 9S as soldiers, first and foremost, who felt like their mission was justified at any cost. 
> 
> I think this is the darkest of the 9 AUs, so please look forward to something happier next week haha. I hope everyone finds something to enjoy :)


End file.
